Connections
by Moonshayde
Summary: The more Clark tries to deny the connections, the more they come back to ensnare him. Spoilers through Hydro Season Six. Clois UST


A/N: My first (and likely only) stab at SV fanfic. I wrote the first five pages before Hydro aired so that is why I consider it a bit AU.

Disclaimer: Characters and universe doesn't belong to me. No copyright infringement intended. No profit being made.

* * *

It was all wrong. 

It was wrong in so many ways.

Too many ways for Clark to count.

He'd spent the last few hours speeding through Smallville – dashing through the cornfields only to flirt with the outskirts of Metropolis and then do it all over again. He thought a good run would clear his head, give him some space, and just allow him to gain some kind of perspective.

He started at the backdoor to his house.

Nothing had changed.

And yet, everything had changed.

"Clark?"

Clark blinked, surprised to find his mother staring at him through the screen. Martha hastily opened the door and urged him inside. He entered without complaint.

"Clark, what's wrong?"

With a sigh, Clark plopped himself into one of the chairs by the table. Already, he could see his mother bypass her mountains of paperwork to head into the heart of the kitchen, fretting as she broke out the cookies and milk. Clark felt a half-smile curl his lips, but the warmness that the nostalgic sight brought was short-lived. His smile faded, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. The healing power of cookies, cakes, and pies had long passed.

"I'm fine, Mom," he managed to finally say, reaching over for a cookie. "It's just been a long night."

"I thought you were going to be spending the night in Metropolis?" she asked.

"I was. It's just that something came up."

Martha nodded. It was a slight, terse nod, but one that he knew all too well. He tried not to wince as he looked down at the cookies.

"No one saw me," he said quickly.

She nodded once more, but this time didn't look at him. Quietly, she grabbed the plate of cookies and headed back into the kitchen. Clark followed her, coming to stand behind her as she worked by the sink.

"Mom…"

"I just worry." Martha wiped her hands. "With your father gone…"

"I know."

She sighed and turned to face him. "Now, are you going to tell me what's really bothering you?"

The events of the night flashed through his mind. He swallowed hard. "Have you ever had a moment where everything you ever thought was true was turned upside down?"

The uneasiness finally evaporated from her face and Martha smiled. "All the time. It's part of life. It's part of being human."

Clark sighed. Once, he'd have given anything to just be like everyone else. But at this point, if this is what his life held, he wasn't sure he wanted to be human anymore.

"I just need some fresh air," he said. With that, he gave his mother a soft smile and slipped outside.

* * *

Clark reveled in the sanctity of the loft, content to listen to the sounds of the farm at night. There was always something peaceful about the farm after dark – about the stirring land beneath the ocean of stars. And though the twinkling lights above were a constant reminder of a home he'd never know, he still felt that the loft was one of the few places he could really be himself anymore. 

Despite the dreamtime yelps of Shelby down below.

But tonight was different. Clark couldn't hide in his solitude this evening. Not with all the conflicted thoughts buzzing through his head.

At first he thought it was because of Lana. Her relationship with Lex, the newspaper article, everything – it was all weighing down on him, giving him delusional thoughts and feelings. Or maybe it was purely biological. He couldn't be held responsible for that. He'd even considered some new form of kryptonite, but even Clark knew how ridiculous that sounded.

It wasn't important. He knew it wasn't important. He just had to let it go.

Why couldn't he let it go?

Clark frowned. Partly angry, but mostly confused, he replayed the night's events in his mind as he tossed his ball into the air. After he caught it, he threw it again and again, each toss becoming more and more feverish, his frustrations growing.

It was all so wrong.

He couldn't get the kiss out of his head.

"Whoa, Smallville. You're giving creepy a whole new look."

Clark froze. He realized that he'd nearly crushed the ball in his hands. Immediately, he dropped it and scrambled to his feet. "Lois," he managed to say.

"Always with the snappy comebacks," she said with a devilish grin. Lois crossed her arms and glanced around the room. "You spend way too much time up here."

"How I spend my time is none of your business."

"Defensive much?"

Clark tried to shoot her a hard glare, but he found himself smirking instead. "Any reason why I'm graced with your presence tonight?"

She grinned one of those famous prized smiles of hers. "As usual, you weren't around to witness the action, but I may just have landed a story that will get my name on the map."

Clark stared at her. She was talking about tonight. _Please don't let her be talking about tonight._

"And you're telling me this…"

She snorted. "Because I'm trying to add a little excitement into your life. And there is no better scoop than being part of the action." She grinned again. "It's going to be great."

"Wait," he said, taking a step toward her. "You're not actually thinking about following the Green Arrow when he's fighting crime?"

"That's exactly what I'm talking about." She shook her head. "God, you are so slow sometimes."

Clark gaped at her. "Lois, this isn't waiting tables at the Talon. This is dangerous."

"Clark, so far, just in the Smallville area alone, I've been possessed, stalked, and nearly killed by a barn door. Just to name a few. I think I'm safer with the thugs in Metropolis." She cocked her head to the side. "Besides, it's not like I'm going to jump out of a window to get a lead."

Lois paused and for a moment, Clark thought maybe she was seriously entertaining the idea. He cleared his throat to get her attention.

"All this talk of journalism," he said. "You're starting to sound like Chloe."

"Ha. That would be the day. I'm doing this for me."

Somehow, Clark didn't think so. But that wasn't the part that bothered him.

"Look, Lois. Just be careful. If you're always off in Metropolis, I may not be able to protect you."

Lois laughed. "Protect? You protect me?" She laughed again. "I think you're taking this hero complex of yours a little too far."

He sighed, only able to mock glare at her. It was then that he realized all the insecurities and uneasiness he'd felt earlier that night had evaporated. He was comfortable, secure, and felt like himself, just like all those other times he'd spent alone in his loft. He knew that he could bicker all night with Lois and nothing would change. This was normal. This was familiar.

The weirdness was over.

"What are you grinning about?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said, feeling his smile widen.

Lois rolled her eyes. "You are so weird. One day, I'm taking you out of here and we're going out."

His smile faltered.

"For a night on the town," she finished. "You need to lighten up. We need to find you a hobby," she said with a nod. "Something that doesn't scream Jeffrey Dahmer," she muttered, searching the loft.

Clark crossed his arms. "Thanks, Lois."

"No problem," she said with a grin.

Clark turned away from her, satisfied that the moment they had shared earlier that night had long passed. What had happened between them was just an accident. In the end, it didn't mean anything. It was part of the job. It was part of having a unique friendship. It was part of protecting Oliver. It didn't mean anything at all.

But when he stooped to pick up his ball, he saw something that left him cold.

Lois was wearing the bracelet.

Clark barely had time to react. The brief flash of horror that touched his face was all Lois needed. She blinked once before quickly covering her wrist with her free hand. Lois then flashed him the guiltiest smile that he'd ever seen.

"What?" she asked, starting to fidget.

He pointed to her wrist. "What? Do you make it a habit of taking other people's things?"

She shifted her weight and pursed her lips. "I was going to return it." She gave him another uneasy smile as she headed over to his desk. "Right now in fact."

Clark felt his mouth go dry when he noticed how well it fit her wrist. "Why did you take in the first place?"

"I saw it with all the other weird symbols you've got." She slipped off the bracelet and put it away. "I thought it would look good with one of my outfits."

Clark didn't want to touch this subject. Clark didn't want to know why Lois felt so compelled to use the bracelet.

Her hand touched his arm. "Look, Smallville. No harm done." She smiled sweetly at him. "I promise not to tell anyone about your jewelry fetish."

He wanted to be angry. He wanted to tell her off. Maybe a couple of years ago, he would have. Maybe not. But instead, he chuckled. And it felt good. Sometimes Lois knew just the right thing to say to break the tension.

That was something else he didn't want to think about.

"Come on," she told him, nudging him with her elbow. "Let's go now."

Clark stared at her. "Now?"

"Now. The night is young and the star are bright…or something like that."

He gave her a not-so-patient look.

"And I'm hungry," she blurted out. "I never got my movie night."

"You never intended to have one."

"That's beside the point." She started down the steps without looking back. "Come on, Smallville."

He shook his head one last time, but found himself following her. He wondered if he was thinking too much. He wondered if he wasn't thinking enough. He had made so many mistakes over the years, allowing his fears to cloud his judgment. Maybe for once in his life he should just go with the flow.

He tried to convince himself it was all wrong.

But somehow he knew that deep down it was so very right.


End file.
